


To Skin A Cat

by enbytes



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:07:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25693288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enbytes/pseuds/enbytes
Summary: Catra could feel it. Horde Prime, shuffling through her memories as Catra might look through mission reports back in the Fright Zone. It wasn’t painful, his sifting through her entire life like so much paperwork, at least not physically. It gave her a mild headache at best, as if there were two consciousnesses squeezed into her skull. Emotionally, it was agony.-Or-Catra realizes how much she needs Adora while Horde Prime combs her memory for secrets
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 46





	To Skin A Cat

Catra could _feel_ it. Horde Prime, shuffling through her memories as Catra might look through mission reports back in the Fright Zone. It wasn’t painful, his sifting through her entire life like so much paperwork, at least not physically. It gave her a mild headache at best, as if there were two consciousnesses squeezed into her skull. Emotionally, it was agony.

On the outside, Catra was a mindless Horde drone, glowing green eyes, and all. On the inside, however, Catra was still very much Catra. She was trapped in her own head, forced to watch as her body and voice obeyed Horde Prime’s every command. This meant that, as Horde Prime sat back and watched her memories as if they were a communications pad feed, Catra had to watch as well. Like some sort of demented play, she had to sit and watch her life go to shit over and over as Horde Prime looked for details that would perhaps give him the edge over the Rebellion and She-Ra.

Presumably, not much time was passing. They’d gone through Catra’s entire life thrice over by this point, and not once had Horde Prime stopped for food or rest or anything of the sort. What felt like years and years of endless reminders of her own personal shame was most likely only moments for Catra in reality.

Catra cringed as she cowered in fear of a younger Shadow Weaver threatening her with unimaginably horrible punishments. She knew it wasn’t real, that she wasn’t seven years old and that Shadow Weaver was nothing more than a memory, but she couldn’t help but recoil at the image. It felt just as real as the day it had happened. Shadow Weaver’s cruel magic didn’t sting like it had all those years ago, but the sight of the memory made the scars that the cruel sorceress had left burn and ache.

_“It is strange, little sister. Your memories of this Shadow Weaver are nothing short of traumatic. Yet, you still seem to experience some sort of longing for her.”_ Horde Prime’s voice echoed through the memory, muted and garbled like a recording. _“You Etherians have the strangest emotional connections. It is quite interesting.”_

Catra did not want anything more at that very moment than for Horde Prime to get out of her head. She wanted him to stop psychoanalyzing her worst traumas like some sort of sick, backwards therapist. She never wanted to hear another one of his snide comments on her mental state ever again. Of course she “experienced some sort of longing” for Shadow Weaver. She’d been a lonely teenager desperate for any form of affection from the closest thing she had to a Mother. And after Adora had left, and taken her only source of positive attention with her, that hunger, that craving for affection had only gotten worse.

Catra cringed as another set of memories played out. It only took a teasing call of “Hey, Adora,” slipping through her younger self’s lips for her to tell exactly what this memory was. She looked down over the image of Adora her mind conjured up, dangling over a pit in the Fright Zone’s training room. It was the day Adora found the sword.

The day before Adora left.

Catra was surprised it took so long to get to this memory. So much had been watched and repeated and watched and repeated that Catra had half a mind to think that Horde Prime had gone through this day before, but she’d just blocked it out. However, his musings of _“Hmm, interesting…”_ told her that this was a first time viewing.

And interesting it was indeed. Catra’s heart shattered as she watched the Memory-Adora leave to go and find the sword. She remembered how she’d thought Adora would be back by lunch, how she had grown worried when there was no sign of her for hours on end. Horde Prime seemed to think there was something of value in the scene that he was missing, because Catra was forced to live the two most dreadful days of her life over and over again. Or, Catra thought, Horde Prime just wanted to watch her squirm. She wouldn’t put it past the narcissistic dictator. So Catra watched. Watched Adora leave, over and over again. She watched herself lie to Shadow Weaver, who would question her again and again despite already knowing where Adora was. She’d watch herself depart for Thaymor, ready to rescue Adora, unaware that Adora had no desire to return to the Fright Zone. Catra was secretly grateful that Horde Prime chose to loop the memory right before they arrived at Thaymor. She knew for a fact that watching Adora choose the rebellion over her again and again would shatter psyche into millions of little fragments.

_“You forget, little sister. All of your thoughts are my thoughts as well.”_ Horde Prime’s voice once again echoed through her head.

_“Go pound sand,” Catra thought back. “Adora won’t come back for me. She came for Glimmer, that’s all.”_

_“We shall see, little sister.”_

Catra hoped she was right. God, she hoped she was right. But, at the same time, there was a small, traitorous part of her that begged for Adora, begged for her to come save her. She’d told Glimmer that she’d just wanted to do that one good thing, and that had been the truth, but a small part of her hoped that saving Glimmer would make Adora want to save her.

No, not even save her. She just wanted Adora to want to see her again. God, she missed her so much. She used to hate to admit it, and part of her still did, but most of that hatred had left alongside Glimmer. Catra’s weeks with Horde Prime had given her a semblance of perspective, she’d like to think.

Adora leaving had wrecked her, beyond belief. She’d been ruined, and just kept digging her own grave deeper and deeper, until she’d opened that stupid portal and nearly killed not just herself, but Adora too. And at that point, that’s what Catra thought she wanted, but God she had been so wrong.

The portal had been the breaking point. She’d had nightmares for weeks following the horrible events inside of the portal, and they’d only served to drive Catra even further into the ground. She’d almost been thankful when Horde Prime had captured her and Glimmer, giving her something else to focus on besides her own shortcomings.

_“You have much more to be thankful for, little sister. After all, I have welcomed you into the light.”_

If Catra had been in control of her own body, she would have grit her teeth. She had nothing to thank Horde Prime for.

_“Oh, but you do, little sister. I have freed you from your burdens, and from your tedious emotional bonds. Soon, once I have gathered my fill of information, I will free you from the burden of your memories as well.”_

Catra wanted nothing more than to claw Horde Prime’s eyes out, all four of them. Anything to get him to shut up.

_“I can see that this discussion is causing you undue stress, little sister, so I shall leave you be. Let us review the rest of your memories in peaceful silence.”_

God, why was he such a prick? There was no way Catra could spend the rest of her life with this creep inside her head. She changed her mind that instant. She concentrated hard, and thought as loudly as she could:

_“Adora is so gonna fuck you up.”_

Horde Prime snorted, the noise loud and uncomfortably grating. _“I would not depend so heavily on your Adora, little sister. Not when she must fight you first. I wonder what that would do to her?”_

It was Catra’s turn to laugh now. _“Adora kicked my ass at least once a week, and that was before she sided with the rebellion. I wouldn’t count on her bleeding heart, buddy.”_ Catra, surprising even herself, found that she legitimately believed this. Sure, Adora might come rescue her, but when she found out that she was just another one of Horde Prime’s mindless drones? Catra had no doubt Adora would cut her down without a second thought to save Etheria. There was no room for sympathy, not with everything she’d done.

_“Oh but there is, little sister. I have suspicions that Adora would give anything for you. Now, let us get back to searching your memories. I have much to look at if I’m to find a weakness of Adora’s.”_

Catra’s blood ran cold. _“Fuck you,”_ she thought with as much malice she could muster. She concentrated hard, doing her best to clear her head of thoughts of Adora. She flooded it with thoughts of Shadow Weaver and her torment, of Hordak and his cruel barbs. Of Scorpia and Entrapta and even that stupid little robot Emily. Anything that Horde Prime couldn’t use, anything that _wasn’t_ Adora.

Horde Prime’s disappointed sigh echoed through her head. Could he really not see anything after Catra’s little distraction attempt? Apparently not, because Catra was no longer being forced to watch reruns of her own miserable life.

_“There are much more unpleasant ways of getting the information I need, little sister. It is unfortunate that you have pushed me to this.”_

Catra barely had time to consider what Horde Prime meant before she felt one of his tentacle-like appendages snake its way to the chip on the back of her neck and plunge itself into her spine. Catra’s spine arched with pain as she tried to scream, but her mouth was not hers to speak from. Instead, her body jerked and spasmed violently as her muscles reacted to whatever Horde Prime was doing. Catra was suddenly presented with a splitting headache as it felt like she was living every memory she had at once. Through the blinding pain, she realized Horde Prime must have stopped trying to be delicate with her mind. All he cared about was the information, not her.

The tentacle withdrew itself from Catra’s neck almost as fast as it had struck, but the pain still lingered. Catra didn’t care though. She felt Horde Prime withdraw from her mind, presumably content with whatever he’d scoured from her memories. Her body was left to slump to the floor as Horde Prime strolled away.

“I do hope your dear Adora lives up to your expectations, little sister,” he said, his voice as cold as ice. It was the first time he’d spoken to Catra outside of her head in ours. Feeling his control over her faulter with his absence in her head, Catra bit her tongue hard until it bled to shake the last remnants of his control.

“Rot in hell,” Catra spat. Her last few moments of freedom were spent on the insult as she felt Horde Prime dive back into her psyche.

And then everything went dark, and Catra dreamed of Adora.

**Author's Note:**

> Hoo boy, do I love this cat. Expect to see a SHIT TON of Catra and Catradora content from me in the future.


End file.
